Page 317 of The Doctors Will See You Now

And so on.

And there was no doubt in my mind that oversharing had most likely spilled over into my life, meaning he’d probably kept my mother and Jean-Pierre in the loop on everything, including Scott.

“Harlow!” my mother greeted the instant she opened the door to her apartment. “I’m going to overlook the fact that I’m a little peeved at you for waiting so long to visit and focus on the fact that you’re actually here.”

It was Saturday morning, and with the giant smile and giddy steps of my mother’s bare feet, it appeared I’d be spending the majority of the day with her and Jean-Pierre.

“I just saw you a few weeks ago, Mom,” I retorted with a knowing smile, and she rolled her eyes in response. “And,” I continued, “I talk to you on the phone nearly every day.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” she said and ushered me inside her and Jean-Pierre’s loft style apartment. “I will only accept you promising to stop by for lunch at least once a week.”

“Fine,” I agreed and shrugged out of my jacket. “Lunch once a week.”

“At least once a week.”

“Do you want me to just move back home?” I teased. “I can quit my job at Gossip and mooch off of you and Jean-Pierre.”

She smiled wide and nodded. “Yes, please.”

I laughed. “You’re so weird.”

“Just consider it,” she said, and I followed her lead through the entryway and into the living room. “We can have coffee together every morning while Jean-Pierre cooks us breakfast.”

Crazily enough, my mother was one hundred percent serious. She’d love for me to be living back home, and my stepfather wouldn’t bat an eye over it either. He was a good man and did, in fact, do most of the cooking in their relationship. His European flair for food ensured everything cooked inside their kitchen was nothing less than delicious.

The aroma of fresh bread wafting past my nose was proof of that. I glanced around the living room and toward the kitchen to find Jean-Pierre standing at the counter chopping up fresh pineapple.

“Harlow!” he greeted with a huge grin. “How are you?”

“I’m good, but I’m confused why you’re cooking,” I questioned and glanced between the two of them. “I thought we were going out to lunch?”

“We are,” my mom answered with a soft smile. “But I know you’re terrible about eating breakfast in the morning, so I figured we’d have a little breakfast first, and then, we can eat a light lunch at Hot House in a few hours.”

“So, basically, you’re trying to extend this lunch into a twelve-hour ordeal?”

“Yep,” she answered with a proud smile.

“I should’ve known when you tried to get me here at nine this morning and wouldn’t budge past ten thirty.”

She smirked. “What can I say? I’ve missed my little Harlow.”

“What have my favorite girls been gabbing about since you stepped in the door?” Jean-Pierre asked as he set the fruit onto a platter.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” I said with an annoyed sigh. “Mom is trying to get me to move back in with you guys, and I’m trying to explain to her that I’m too old to move back home,” I teased, and my mom laughed in response.

“She’ll never stop asking until you do it,” he responded through a chuckle, and my mother flashed a glare in his direction, which only made him laugh more. “Don’t shoot the messenger,” he added with a cheeky grin. “I’m merely telling her the truth. And you know that I’d love for Harlow to come live with us again.”

“See?” My mother’s eyes met mine. “Even your stepfather thinks it’s a good idea.”

“That’s because he knows it would make you happy, and we both know that man lives to make you happy.”

“You’re right,” he chimed in and glanced at my mother with his heart in his eyes. “Your mother is my world.”

She giggled as she walked toward him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Love you,” she whispered and he grinned.

While they had their typical little lovey-dovey moment in the kitchen, I walked around their apartment, taking in the place I used to call my full-time home.

Their SoHo pad was gorgeous, and extremely spacious for New York City’s standards, and it had always been a place I adored. Large, floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted the open floor plan, and the space was filled with midcentury modern décor and various paintings they’d collected over the years.